


You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch

by iscatterthemintimeandspace



Series: Giveaway Prize Ficlets [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Giveaway Prize ficlet, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:59:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iscatterthemintimeandspace/pseuds/iscatterthemintimeandspace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Grinch does not belong to me. It belongs to Dr. Seuss, I'm simply borrowing it for this fic. </p><p>Thorin agrees to babysit his young nephews so his sister can catch up on her Christmas shopping. He knows just how to put them to sleep, or does he?  </p><p>Giveaway Prize Ficlet from my 300 followers giveway for user ladybons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladybons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladybons/gifts).



**“Every Who Down in Who-ville Liked Christmas a lot... But the Grinch, Who lived just North of Who-ville, did not !”** Thorin read dramatically, his deep voice booming. 

“What’s a Who?” Fili asked, his face full of crumbs. Thorin’s eldest nephew was munching Christmas cookies, spilling them all over the book Thorin held in his lap. They were sitting in an armchair by the window, a roaring fire casting a flickering light over them. Thorin had agreed to watch his nephews while Dis and her husband did some last minute Christmas shopping. 

“These are Whos,” Thorin pointed to the little drawn people before starting to read again. 

**“The Grinch hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!  
** Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.  
It could be that his head wasn't screwed on quite right.  
It could be, perhaps, that his shoes were too tight.” 

“Why didn’t his mommy buy him new shoes, Uncle Thorin?” Fili interrupted, looking up at his uncle with beseeching eyes. “Mommy buys me ‘n Kee new shoes.” He nodded towards his little brother, who was drooling soggy cookie crumbs all over Thorin’s arm. 

“Maybe the Grinch doesn’t have a mommy,” Thorin murmured back, flipping the page and reading on. 

**“But I think that the most likely reason of all  
May have been that his heart was two sizes too small.”**

“He doesn’t have a mommy?” Fili sounded absolutely outraged. “Why doesn’t he have a mommy?” 

“I don’t know, Fee,” Thorin said. “Now hush, so I can keep reading.” 

**“But,  
** Whatever the reason,  
His heart or his shoes,  
He stood there on Christmas Eve, hating the Whos.” 

“Hate is a bad word, Uncle Thorin,” Fili interjected again, his small browed furrowed in the theatrical outrage only a five-year-old could muster. “Mommy said so!”

“Shhhhh,” Thorin hummed, “Do you want to hear the rest of the story?” 

Fili nodded at him solemnly, reaching for another cookie. 

“Then you need to be quiet.” 

**“Staring down from his cave with a sour, Grinchy frown  
** At the warm lighted windows below in their town.  
For he knew every Who down in Who-ville beneath  
Was busy now, hanging a mistletoe wreath.” 

“Pppppppppt,” Kili was blowing loud, drippy bubbles, soaking the sleeve of Thorin’s Christmas sweater with baby spit. 

Fili was indignant. “SHHHHHH Shhhhh, Kee!” he snapped at his brother. “I want to hear the story!” 

“Fili, be nice to him. Santa’s still watching,” Thorin gently reminded. His sister would scold him if she heard him holding Santa over Fili’s head like that, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. His nephew was pretty well- behaved anyway.

“I’m sorry, Kee,” he mumbled, thoroughly chastised. “Don’t tell Santa, Uncle Thorin!”

“I won’t,” he promised, chuckling internally to himself. “Now shhhh.”

**"And they're hanging their stockings!" he snarled with a sneer.  
** "Tomorrow is Christmas! It's practically here!"  
Then he growled, with his Grinch fingers nervously drumming,  
"I MUST find a way to keep Christmas from coming!"  
For, tomorrow, he knew... 

**...All the Who girls and boys  
** Would wake up bright and early. They'd rush for their toys!  
And then! Oh, the noise! Oh, the noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!  
That's one thing he hated! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!” 

Thorin read, the boys relaxing in his arms. Kili’s eyes were already beginning to droop, his face covered in crumbs as he settled against his uncle’s chest. Books were Thorin’s go-to for getting his nephews to sleep. But Fili was still wide awake, hanging on his every word. 

**“Then the Whos, young and old, would sit down to a feast.  
** And they'd feast! And they'd feast!  
And they'd FEAST! FEAST! FEAST! FEAST!  
They would start on Who-pudding, and rare Who-roast-beast  
Which was something the Grinch couldn't stand in the least! 

**And THEN  
** They'd do something he liked least of all!  
Every Who down in Who-ville, the tall and the small,  
Would stand close together, with Christmas bells ringing.  
They'd stand hand-in-hand. And the Whos would start singing! 

**They'd sing! And they'd sing!  
** AND they'd SING! SING! SING! SING!  
And the more the Grinch thought of the Who-Christmas-Sing  
The more the Grinch thought, "I must stop this whole thing!  
"Why for fifty-three years I've put up with it now!  
I MUST stop Christmas from coming!  
...But HOW?" 

Fili’s eyes went wide. “Why does he not want Christmas?” he whispered, positively scandalized. “Does Santa not come to his house?” 

“Fili,” Thorin said, closing the book. “I’m not going to read any more if you keep interrupting. Do you want to hear the rest of it?” 

His nephew nodded feverishly, trying to open the book with his small hands. “Please?” 

Thorin opened the book again and began to read where he had left off. 

**“Then he got an idea!  
** An awful idea!  
THE GRINCH  
GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA! 

**"I know just what to do!" The Grinch Laughed in his throat.  
** And he made a quick Santy Claus hat and a coat.  
And he chuckled, and clucked, "What a great Grinchy trick!  
"With this coat and this hat, I'll look just like Saint Nick!" 

**"All I need is a reindeer..."  
** The Grinch looked around.  
But since reindeer are scarce, there was none to be found.  
Did that stop the old Grinch...?  
No! The Grinch simply said,  
"If I can't find a reindeer, I'll make one instead!"  
So he called his dog Max. Then he took some red thread  
And he tied a big horn on top of his head.” 

Thorin yawned, slumping lower in the chair. His eyelids were getting heavier, his body lulled into sleep by the eggnog and the warmth of the fire. Kili was already asleep, a warm lump at his side, his thumb stuck in his mouth.

Fili looked up at him expectantly, not sign of tiredness in his alert blue eyes. Thorin read on.

**“THEN  
** He loaded some bags  
And some old empty sacks  
On a ramshackle sleigh  
And he hitched up old Max. 

**Then the Grinch said, "Giddyap!"  
** And the sleigh started down  
Toward the homes where the Whos  
Lay a-snooze in their town. 

**All their windows were dark. Quiet snow filled the air.  
** All the Whos were all dreaming sweet dreams without care  
When he came to the first house in the square.  
"This is stop number one," The old Grinchy Claus hissed  
And he climbed to the roof, empty bags in his fist. 

**Then he slid down the chimney. A rather tight pinch.  
But if Santa could do it,” ** Thorin yawned again, his eyes slowly fluttering shut, **“then- then- then so could the…”** He wrinkled his nose as he drifted to sleep.

Fili looked at his uncle and brother snoozing away in the chair. He wasn’t even tired. The little boy wriggled slowly out of his uncle’s grip and slid to the floor. He tiptoed across the room to his father’s ottoman and pulled out his favorite quilt. Slinking back along floor, He crept up to his sleeping uncle. 

“Goodnight, Uncle Thorin,” the child whispered gently, kissing Kili lightly on his nose. He covered them both up with the quilt and tucked it around them before he scampered off in search of his mother’s special Christmas cookie jar.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my lovely beng for look this over


End file.
